Now Hiring
by MisplacedSanity
Summary: aka The Epic of Kurosaki Ichigo: Superhero Unemployed crack-fic. Fullbring bashing


_Don't blame me. This was just **begging **to be done._

_All recognizable (and cracktastic) series belong to their respective owners._

_I just take advantage of these things._

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><p>Now Hiring<p>

.

Also Known As

the Epic of Kurosaki Ichigo: Superhero Unemployed

.

Jobs are tedious things. Much like out of order pens. Hanging around like bums when you can't find a specific need for them. Nonexistent and pathetically unreliant when you do.

Jobs are another hassle altogether if you've never had a proper working experience. After all, someone with 'residential loose cannon specializing in slaying otherworldly supernatural monsters and one egotistical maniac, in this dimension and several others' in their resume wouldn't be the first choice. Just the perfect candidate for the Funny Farm. And, no, we aren't too interested in your sword-handling skills, thank you very much.

Ain't society a bitch?

Thus is the complication for one Kurosaki Ichigo, age seventeen, orange hair, brown eyes, occupation high school student and jobless.

Too blunt? Recently in-between jobs. Sorry to bruise your ego.

As far as he was concerned that wasn't his fault.

Ok, maybe it was, but you get the point. Pity he wasn't able to scream the ever badass movie plot crescendo one-liner: _'You can't fire me! I quit!_'

Ah, if only.

Anyhow, previous occupations aside, let us reel off on the issue at hand: our hapless, ginger jobless hero, kicking an empty tin can as he walks down the relatively mild mid July weekend afternoon, head down and sulky as he sulkily makes his way down a busy street.

Did we mention he is jobless and sulky?

What a trooper.

Yet another anyhow, as he walks he angsts on how utterly useless he is in his current situation. No powers! _le sigh. _No megasword! _the anguish!_ No walking on air!_ why me!_ No spontaneous halleluiah revival! _why! _No took a trip in badass! _OH GOD WHY!_

Just a regular Mr Whatshisface clichely kicking a can. Poor can.

He looks up, hair in the disheveled angst mode that somehow makes all male fiction characters look awesomely appealing, eyes happening upon a telephone pole. And here...

SALVATION FOUND.

Conveniently placed and haphazardly taped is a paper, more specifically a JOB OFFER.

_Wanted! ! !_

_Teenagers with attitude._

_Age specific job for young adults ranging from 15-17_

_Must have experience in fighting otherworldly beings._

_(Generic reference phone number)_

_(Generic reference phone number)_

_..._

_This, _Ichigo exclaims in his receding angst-driven head eyes wide and so very near to tears of manly joy, because he's the pillar of sometimes stoic, mainly brash teenage male shonen main character, _is perfect!_

Grinning excitedly, he tears himself a phone number slip and runs home, abandoning his angst-can in a rush, eager to start his new career.

/

"Hello? ...Yeah, I saw your ad on the street today and I think I'm more than qualified to sign up. Yeah, I've done that way too many times to count, I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem to me... yeah I'm sure... First day starts tomorrow? No problem, I'll be there. Thank you."

/

_The Next Day_

A large sneering monster with far too many tentacles and appearing to be far too rubbery to be natural looms its way through downtown Karakura, smashing buildings in its wake and being the typical Tokyo monster makes itself known to the general public. Such crowds, previously enjoying the overly commercialized atmosphere of a mall's outdoor courtyard, vacate the premises and screaming in unholy terror from the plastic-monster, leaving six teenagers to the scene like some kind of people osmosis, who were now staring proudly into the hideously manufactured monster for hire.

Somewhere in the background a guitar rift squeals in an exaggerated crescendo.

"Come on guys! Let's show ugly who's boss!"

Five of the six figures pull out what appear to be eletronic badges of some kind and bark out a single command, instantaniously transforming their apparel into eye wateringly bright fullbody jumpsuits of red, yellow, pink, green and black, topped off with a full helmet of a corresponding color in individual bursts of static electricity.

Sighing in exasperation, Ichigo mimics his colleagues, grudgingly, and barks out a command of his own.

"White Ranger Power!"

When the buzz of electricity clears the air, his clothes are replaced witha stark white jumpsuit-type uniform, bone-like armour encasing his chest, shoulders, abdomen, legs and forearms. His eletronic badge is now situated in the gaurd of his equally white sword.

_Go, go Power Rangers_! a disembodied voice sings in unison with the shrieking guitar.

_"I fucking hate my life." _Ichigo mutters.

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><p><strong><em>YES. I WENT THERE.<em>**

_Doesn't help much when there's this little gem of knowledge: http: /www. youtube .com/ watch?v=A-ET4GTXsxk_

_Love it, hate it, want it to burn in hell, tell me with a review but this is just a bit of sweet revenge towards the Fullbring arc._


End file.
